You Must Love Me
by splashdown
Summary: When Draco disappears without any explanation to Ginny, she falls into Harry's open arms. It's the relationship and happiness she'd always dreamt of, but now that Draco's back in town, things are changing. Ginny's in love, but with who?
1. Chapter 1

First, I want to start out by thanking my beautiful and talented beta, Key, without whom, I'd have no storyline, horrible grammar, and really, no fic at all.

Second, I'd like to thank a special select few who've given me information or just plain inspiration along the way: Rose (pretty much the HP almanac herself), the HP Lexicon, and my two writing heroes, Cassandra Claire and Glass Mermaid. There's more, but if I went on, we'd never get to the fic!

And last, but certainly not least, I want to thank each and every one of you who will read this, even if you only read the first chapter, as well as to those of you who will actually review it. Constructive criticism will only help better this, so please - your input means so much!

Thank you all SO much for your help, input, and inspiration. It means a lot. :)

Now, onto chapter one of You Must Love Me!

♥, Amy (s p l a s h d o w n)

**Chapter 1 - Mysterious Dreams**

_She's running, her ginger hair on fire with the afternoon sunlight streaming down between treetops, her legs pumping harder than they ever have in all her years back home at the Burrow. But she's not at the Burrow anymore. And deeper and deeper into the forest she sprints, trees blurring past her as she goes. Green turns to red turns to brown turns to black. All black, every way she turns. The sun has stopped shining down through the branches of the trees, and darkness surrounds her. _

And just as suddenly as she began running, she stops. Clutching her sides with both hands, the small girl heaves for air as she lets her eyes adjust to the enveloping blackness.

CRUNCH.

A fallen branch breaks in two on the forest floor. Wand in hand, she turns to face the sound, knowing what (and who) it is before she even begins to move. Her heartbeat quickens, and goosebumps appear all over her pale, freckled skin, as a cold chill descends upon her. She lets out a tiny gasp just as two silver eyes appear in front of her face out of the darkness...

Ginny Weasley woke with a start. Breathing hard, she gripped her chest forcefully and struggled to calm herself.

There's something about those eyes, she thought as she pushed herself out of bed and headed toward the kitchen of the flat she shared with longtime friend Hermione Granger. Nonsense, she scolded herself quickly. It was just a dream, Ginny. A dream, and that is all.

Ginny flicked her right hand as she entered the kitchen, and the lights rose from darkness, encasing the pale blue room in brightness. Without thinking, she crossed the kitchen swiftly, opened a high cupboard, and pulled out a clear glass. Just as she finished filling the glass full of water from the sink, a disgruntled-looking Hermione walked in.

"Can you make that two, please?" Hermione asked, bringing a hand up to her mouth as she tried to unsuccessfully stifle the yawn yearning to break loose.

Ginny smiled as she reached back into the cupboard for an identical glass and filled it up.

"Mmmmm," Hermione mumbled, thanking Ginny and grabbing the glass from Ginny's outstretched hand, ignoring (or not noticing at all) the amused gleam coming from the other girl's dark brown eyes.

Ginny loved living with Hermione. Even though she'd moved in barely a month ago after graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she couldn't imagine life any differently. Ever since her first year at Hogwarts, she and Hermione had had a special friendship, albeit a little rocky at the start. It seemed only fitting that they now shared a flat on Magic Alley (right next to Diagon Alley in Magical London).

Ginny especially loved mornings with Hermione. Despite the abnormality of the dream she'd just had, Ginny usually woke very early and very easily. Hermione, on the other hand, did not. Ginny was constantly amused each morning as she greeted the sun with open arms while Hermione would much rather greet the sun during the afternoon after a long lie-in, a trait which, Ginny suspected, Hermione picked up from her older brother and Hermione's boyfriend, Ron.

"How is it that you are always so," Hermione paused, a disgusted look upon her face, "awake." She placed her now empty glass upon the table.

Ginny laughed. "You sound more and more like Ron everyday. Watch out, Hermione, you might start sprouting ginger hair. In fact, I think I see one..." she finished with a smirk and pointed right above Hermione's left ear.

Hermione blushed lightly as she brought her hand up to her head, and Ginny's smirk widened. She walked to the window above the table and opened the white floral curtains that Hermione's mother had recently bought for them and let the sunlight pour in, illuminating the kitchen even more. As she opened the window and let the breeze ruffle through her hair, she sighed. It was clearly going to be a beautiful day, as there were already hardly any clouds in the bright blue sky. Ginny smiled at the possibility of having a picnic in the park and spending the evening curled up tight with her own boyfriend, Harry Potter. Just as soon as that thought popped into her head, another one burst through. The dream. Ginny shut her eyes and breathed deeply. Why did she have such a silly dream? She hadn't thought about the boy those silver eyes belonged to in months and certainly hadn't seen him for longer than that. Ginny shook her head and cleared it of all thoughts, opened her eyes, and turned back to her roommate, taking a seat opposite her at the table.

"What do you have planned for the day?" she asked Hermione, who was clearly grateful it was the weekend and that she didn't have to go into the Ministry at all.

Hermione was interning under Ginny's father in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office at the Ministry of Magic. While her job wasn't as demanding as most, she certainly used up a lot of energy trailing after Arthur Weasley, despite her love for him, and the thought of spending one more consecutive day pent up in a rather small office with flying memos buzzing about her head was simply too much. Even though Hermione loved her sleep, she would give it up to have a day off, especially on a day like this.

No answer.

Ginny's eyebrows came together as she struggled to obtain Hermione's attention. "Hermione? OY, HERMIONE!" Ginny shouted, kicking her friend under the table.

This time Hermione's eyebrows raised as she finally glanced away from the window.

"Ouch," she said, extending a long, sun-tanned arm down under the table to rub her shin where, moments before, Ginny had gracefully given her a new bruise. "What'd you do that for?"

"I've only been trying to ask you your plans for the day for the past five minutes," Ginny replied, amused. Noticing the rose tinge that appeared on Hermione's cheeks, she quickly added, "so what's up?" while her eyes searched Hermione's, genuinely concerned.

Hermione slightly nodded and began to rise from the table. Ginny knew exactly where she was heading and stood up to follow her. They both made their way into the sitting room.

There were many things that went unsaid between the two girls. Whenever they had a feeling or just wanted to speak to each other alone, they shared a meaningful glance, and both quickly and quietly excused themselves in order to talk in private. When they were in the privacy of their own flat, they always headed to the sitting room, letting themselves dissolve into the dark green sofa cushions.

"What's up?" Ginny repeated, once both girls were very comfortably settled under matching off-white blankets which Ginny's mother had graciously knitted upon hearing Ginny's news of sharing a flat with Hermione.

Hermione's unsteady brown eyes slowly reached Ginny's patient gaze, which was both very usual and unusual all at once. Ginny was especially known for her impatience with most people, but for those she knew and loved dearly, she gladly gave her time, knowing that what they had to do and say were of more importance.

They stared at one another for a quick moment, letting unsaid words pass between them. Finally, Hermione spoke.

"Last night, you may or may not have noticed that I had more than enough to drink," she said, slightly flushing once more.

Ginny nodded. She quite clearly remembered Hermione's actions from the previous night's festivities. It was very unlike the girl she knew, but she chalked it up to the fact that it was a special occasion - Harry's 19th birthday. She willed Hermione to go on.

"Well," Hermione paused. "Did you notice who made a special appearance?" she asked vehemently, rolling her eyes to show that it was someone of which she didn't exactly approve.

Ginny's mind searched. She tried remembering who she'd talked to or had spotted around, but no one out of the ordinary caught her attention. There was George and Fred, Angelina, her parents, old friends from Hogwarts, Dumbledore... nothing came up. But then again, her night mostly consisted of Harry. She smiled to herself, unaware of the watchful eye of her roommate until Hermione gave her an odd look, and Ginny's mind came back to the present.

"I honestly can't remember, Hermione," she admitted, as Hermione tutted and took a deep breath to continue.

"Fleur Delacour," she replied flatly, her eyes dull but her cheeks still colored.

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. She suddenly recollected watching her brother, Ron, talking with Fleur for hours in the corner chairs of the flat he and Harry shared.

_Hah, it's no wonder Hermione drank so much, then,_ Ginny thought. Once again, she had to forcefully bring her mind back to the present and smiled reassuringly.

"Hermiiiiiiiiiione," she drawled, making her roommate laugh slightly. "You have nothing to worry about. Believe me," she added, the many overheard conversations between her brother and her friend returning to her mind. It was Ginny's turn to faintly flush.

Hermione still looked put out, but brightened a bit at Ginny's words. "I know," she said reluctantly, "but I'm just a little embarassed about my so-called jealous rage and how I acted. Ron must be furious." She pulled the covers up over her head and sighed outloud.

Ginny laughed again. "Hermione Jane Granger, you are an idiot." Hermione shrugged the blanket from atop her head and glared at Ginny.

"What!" she yelled, tossing a green pillow at her roommate, her eyes glowing from half-amusement, half-shock.

Ginny shrieked in laughter once more and continued. "You have known Ron for years, and you still think that he would be furious?" She paused to laugh a bit more, watching Hermione's face visibly relax. "He probably thought it was the funniest thing ever and is out making you a sweater that says, 'I get pissed in jealous rages' on it right now. Or," she added, "he's still sleeping but is dreaming about it."

Hermione smiled. "I still feel a bit ridiculous."

Ginny smacked her with a pillow. "Get over it," she replied, grinning. "Besides, what's Fleur got that you haven't? Other than blonde hair?"

Ginny's mind reeled, just as Hermione slugged her again with another pillow. _Blonde hair_, she thought, feeling a bit of the color drain from her face. _STOP IT, GINNY._

She quickly stood and announced that she was going to the loo to clean up for the day. Hermione, thankful for being consoled as well as for having a flat with two loos, stood and hugged her friend.

"Thanks, Gin," she said quietly, tugging a stray strand of curly, brown hair behind her ear.

Ginny smiled back in response, and the two parted ways as they each headed to their bedrooms, which were on opposite sides of the flat.

As Ginny reached the comfort of her own room, she closed the door and leaned her back against it, sighing and willing her mind to stay away from the subject of her dream.

It was going to be a long day.

-------

_"Ginny, just get out of here! Now!" a sudden voice booms, sending chills down her spine. _

"What?" she asks increduously. "No! Not until you tell me what's going on!"

Footsteps. Closer and closer. Somebody's coming. But who?

A tall, slender boy with white hair and handsome features strides towards her and takes her face in his hands.

"Listen to me, Weasley. We don't have time to play these silly little games. I don't have time for this. It's over, is that what you wanted to hear? Now GET OUT!" he shouts at her, pointing his long finger in the direction of the fireplace.

More footsteps. Louder and louder and louder until they're right outside the door.

BANG BANG BANG.

They're knocking, demanding to be let in. Shouts and screams and yells. Pounding down the door. They're going to break it down.

"Go!" he hisses at her, his silver eyes shining in the light of the fire.

The girl grabs a handful of shimmering powder, launches herself into the fireplace, and vanishes. The last thing she sees is a pair of silver eyes boring right into her very own.

"Ginny," he called softly. "Wake up, Gin."

"Mmmm," she mumbled, turning over onto her side. "What time is it?"

He laughed. "Lunch time. Aren't you hungry?"

"How long have I been asleep?" Ginny asked, rubbing her eyes and finally sitting up. That's funny, she thought. I don't even remember falling back asleep.

"Well, from the look of things, you've just gotten out of the shower," the boy casually replied, smirking and pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

Ginny finally turned her gaze upon the owner of the deep voice and stared into his bright green eyes, a smile playing at her lips.

"Hi," she said, grinning, her brown eyes crinkling around the corners.

"Hi back," Harry replied, pushing a strand of still-wet ginger hair behind her ear. He loved her hair. It reminded him of Christmas and warm apple pie and Gryffindor and Ron and cinnamon and the Burrow and peace. But mostly it reminded him of happiness. Utter blissful happiness. The kind that covers you like rain after a long drought. Relieving. Inspiring.

But most importantly, he loved her. He was sure of it.

She grabbed his hand in both of hers and finally tore her gaze away from his eyes. Looking down at herself, she muttered an "Oh!" in realization of what she was wearing. A towel covered her body, and nothing else.

"Goodness," she squeaked, giggling at herself. "I must've crawled back into bed after I showered. How Hermione of me." She smirked and wished her brother could've heard that one; Ron would have whooped in agreement.

Harry laughed and kissed her on the mouth. Ginny let his warmth fill her and sighed. He pulled away and smiled at her.

"I'll let you get dressed then," he said slowly.

"Harry Potter!" Ginny exclaimed, highly amused as she noticed the reluctance in his voice. "I am utterly scandalized!"

"You sound like your mother," he said out of the corner of his mouth, wincing as she swatted his arm playfully.

Laughing, Ginny shouted, "OUT!" and Harry obeyed, but not before taking one last glimpse of the girl he loved just as the door closed shut.

Ginny continued laughing. She loved laughing, and even more so with Harry. It felt good to share things with him, especially secrets, which she'd been kept out in the dark on for far too long. _I deserve this_, she thought, bringing her hands up to her face and running her fingers along her lips. _Mmmm, still warm_, she smiled to herself.

As her fingers drifted over to her cheeks, she stopped dead in her tracks. She suddenly remembered something.

_Oh no. The dream. Another one. What is happening to me?_ Ginny looked around her bedroom, taking in the unmade bed and the clothes littering the floor. _Calm down, Ginny. Get dressed. Harry's waiting for you. Harry. You can worry about the rest later.  
_  
After rummaging about her room for something decent (and clean) to wear, Ginny decided on a tight green t-shirt and a new jean skirt Hermione had given her just a few days ago. She slipped on her shoes, dabbed on a bit of light make-up, sprayed on a few splashes of Harry's favorite perfume, pulled her hair up, and opened the door. Harry was sitting on the sofa, looking around the flat as she entered. His eyes fell on her and brightened further.

"You look great," he said softly, putting his arms around her waist and breathing in the familiar scent that was just plain Ginny.

"Thanks," she replied lightly, letting herself fall into him and nuzzling her nose into his neck. "Whub Hubmibe?" she mumbled into his shirt.

Harry laughed. "Care you repeat that?"

Ginny dislodged herself and asked again. "Where's Hermione?"

"Oh," he replied. "She left with Ron just as I got here."

"Did she look okay?" Ginny questioned, remembering the conversation they'd had earlier that morning.

Harry looked at her blankly, as if trying to recall something from ten years ago. "She looked the same as usual. Ron, however, was in a fit of hysterics; I thought he'd gone mad or something. But I don't blame him, really. Not after the show Hermione put on last night," he added, smirking. "Brilliant."

Ginny laughed and felt relieved until her stomach rumbled, and she suddenly felt hunger set in.

"Somebody's hungry," Harry remarked, taking his wand out of his belt loop. "I'll meet you at the joke shop, okay?" He kissed her cheek and smiled at her before Disapparating.

Ginny stood and stared at the spot where Harry had just been, smiling to herself. _Today is going to be a good day after all_, she thought, abandoning all prior thoughts.

She grabbed her wand and Disapparated after her boyfriend.

She loved Harry. And she knew that no matter what, as long as she and Harry were together, nothing could ever separate them. Of this, she was sure.

-------

Ginny loved spending quality one-on-one time with Harry. Since he defeated Voldemort a little over a year ago, he'd been a completely different person, it seemed. He was more carefree and, although he still guarded himself, wasn't always on high alert like he was throughout his Hogwarts days. It always warmed her heart when she saw him laughing and opening up to people - including herself - so she found herself observing him as much as she could.

That night, she watched as he picked at his food and continually glanced around the tavern. She watched as he smiled and greeted old friends and strangers alike. She even watched him try to steal glances at her.

Finally, after another unsuccessful stolen glance, Harry cleared his throat. Ginny looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak, his cough indicating to her that something important was on his mind.

He noticed her watchful eye - he always did - and it usually didn't bother him. Tonight, however, he'd been planning for some time, so her constant looks were making him slightly nervous.

"Er, Ginny," he began, searching for the three little words he'd waited to say for months, possibly even years. He wasn't sure when he began loving Ginny, but he knew for sure that he never wanted to stop. It was time to tell her how he felt, after putting it off for entirely too long. Yet, he realized he couldn't quite say it yet, watching her as she diligently watching him back.

"Yes, Harry?" she questioned, encouraging him to continue.

"Er... d'you fancy a walk with me?" he asked her, barely stumbling through, feeling a bit disappointed with himself.

"Sure," Ginny replied, scooting off her chair and sliding it back to it's place with a flick of her wand. She smiled back at him as he watched her closely, looking for any signs of annoyance. When he found none, he followed her lead and put his own chair back into place.

The two exited the tavern and began strolling down the lane. This was Ginny's favorite time of day, dusk; neither daylight nor nightfall. Everything was enveloped in twilight, giving off a bright, mysterious glow that Ginny reckoned was the most beautiful thing in the world, next to Harry's eyes, of course.

He grabbed her hand, and she smiled at his nervousness, something that was a bit unusual, but Ginny enjoyed that she was still able to make him feel that way, especially after all those years of him making her feel like that. She wondered what was up, but didn't want to prod. He would tell her when the time was right, this she knew. He always did.

They continued walking, greeting friends along the way until they arrived at a tiny park in the middle of Magical London. They sat down on a bench near a fountain and watched the passersby, some staring at Harry, trying to catch a glimpse at the famous lightning bolt scar that was plastered on his forehead, others oblivious to all of the world around them. They watched small children playing in the fountain and laughed, both wondering if that, in turn, would be their own children someday. The couple watched the sunset and the rising stars that followed, all the while keeping their fingers intertwined, both unconsciously afraid that if they let go of one another, the world would spin out of control, and they'd be alone.

Harry, mustering up all of his Gryffindor courage, turned, once again, to Ginny. "Ginny, there's something I've, er, been meaning to tell you." He stared into her dark brown eyes and hoped beyond hope that she felt the same way; that what he was about to say was the right thing. He was never very suave with women, and even though he felt more comfortable with Ginny than he had with any other girl, he was still slightly embarrassed at what was about to come out of his mouth.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, concern flooding her eyes.

"Oh, nothing bad, don't worry," he quickly replied, feeling dreadful that he'd made her even the tiniest bit worried. "It's just, well. I, er... Iloveyou, Ginny," he finished in a slur. Feeling sudden dread creeping into his stomach, he became very interested in his fingers laced with hers, all the while hoping that she didn't think he was a complete git.

But Ginny didn't hear him. "What?" she asked, more to herself than to Harry. Harry blanched, and, Ginny, once again, was oblivious.

In the split second it had taken Harry to continue talking and spit out what he was trying to say, Ginny had looked away over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of something more terrifying and more exhilerating than anything she'd felt in a long time: perfect blond hair, a tall, slender frame, a handsome face, and those burning silver eyes.

Draco Malfoy was back in London.


	2. Chapter 2

Apologies on the tardiness of this short second chapter. With HBP coming out and me working and finding time to sleep and do everything else in my life, it's been hard to get this written and beta'd as well. So, with that in mind, I'd like to send a _huge_ THANK YOU to me beta, Key, for being so wonderful and patient and everything. You're the best, for real.

Anyway, this chapter most definitely doesn't have any HBP spoilers, but I imagine from here on out, spoilers will be incorporated. There are some things that I've written thus far that don't go along with the HBP storyline, and since I'm not going to change them, we'll have to make-do with what's written, I suppose.

Thank you to all of those who've reviewed the first chapter - it means a lot, knowing that people have read what I've written and have taken the time to say a few kind words. After all, I am writing this for you ( ...and Key, I suppose, but that's another story)!

So, without further ado, onto chapter two of You Must Love Me.

♥, Amy (s p l a s h d o w n)

**Chapter 2 - Unanswered Questions**

She saw him. She actually _saw_ him. After months and months without even a look or a word that he was okay, that they were okay, he was back, strutting about town like he owned the place. And Ginny saw him. With her own two eyes.

She remembered the first time she ever saw him, standing alone on a staircase high above everyone else - his assumed place in life, though Ginny didn't quite disagree - and staring down malevolently at her Harry. She remembered thinking that never had she seen anything quite like him before and was about to ask her mother if she could keep him when he opened up his perfect mouth and tainted her with his malicious cruelty. The way he spoke down to her set her temper on fire, but nothing had ever upset her like the way he threatened her Harry.

Something clicked inside of Ginny's mind. _My Harry_, she thought, shaking herself back to reality and the flustered boy sitting in front of her, his eyes full of hurt and regret.

"G-Ginny?" he asked cautiously, looking nervously to and from her eyes. He remembered that Ginny. Back during his final days of Hogwarts and those following summer months, that was the Ginny that made appearances day in and day out, arising questions from not only her family, but from Harry himself.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry, I must've blanked out there for a second. I don't know what's wrong with me today! I hope I'm not coming down with something. Now, what were you saying?" she questioned, removing her eyes from his and taking another glance over his shoulder in search of that shocking white hair, but Draco was no longer able to be seen.

Harry gave her a slightly disappointed look and opened his mouth, closing it again after several seconds. "Er, nevermind," he said. "It was nothing." He paused, watching his girlfriend closely, for any sign that she had heard what he'd said only moments before. He found none and felt relieved, if only slightly. Ginny, on the other hand, hadn't even noticed that Harry was watching her, her dark eyes raking over everyone and everything in the park, quite clearly searching for something or someone. Harry opened his mouth to continue. "Ginny, maybe I'd better walk you home. It's getting late, and you don't look well enough to Apparate anywhere."

Ginny flushed and looked down at her shoes. "Don't be silly, Harry. I'm fine. But you go on ahead; I'll be right behind you," she smiled at him, trying to indicate that she was, indeed, alright and didn't need to be walked home, but only needed a bit of more fresh air.

He eyed her carefully for a moment and shrugged. He learned long ago that arguing with Ginny was a lost cause. She had a temper that could only be matched by his own and would scream her point until his head throbbed, thus no longer being able to even recall what they were rowing about in the first place.

"Mmmf," he responded, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. Maybe he _could_ tell her again. "Ginny, I..." he began.

"Harry, I assure you that I am in perfectly good health and will be able to Disapparate back to my flat. If you are that concerned you may wait at my flat until you are completely sure that I'm not really sick at all," Ginny interuppted, pulling away and out of Harry's arms, challenging him with her dark eyes.

Harry's own eyes grew cold, and she knew at once that she'd said and done something wrong. Well, she'd done many things wrong, especially to Harry. This was just another one to add to the list. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Harry had already taken out his wand, given it a quick twist, and muttered, "Goodnight, Ginny," before leaving her sitting alone in the park.

She sighed. _Damn_, she thought. _No use trying to fix that tonight. I might as well head back to my flat and just turn in for the night.  
_  
Just as she moved to take out her own wand, an idea suddenly washed over her like a giant tidal wave. She slid her wand back into place and began walking at a brisk pace in the direction she'd seen Draco go earlier.

_Well, as long as I'm out_, she reasoned with herself, telling herself that she was thinking very logically. But she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she would spend all night searching for the boy she once knew if she had to.

Across the park, Harry stepped out from behind the tree he'd Apparated to in order to make sure Ginny got to her flat safely. He might've been angry with her - disappointed, for that matter - but he still loved her and needed to be sure that she was safe, always. He swiftly moved and began to follow his girlfriend into the moonlight, Ginny too caught up in her past to notice.

- - - - -

_Colors contrast all around her. Fiery red, blinding white, blazing blue, muddy brown. Her world is drunk and spinning as she tries to stay calm. Not only for herself, but for him. _

She walks through the snow on a crisp, cold morning, just moments before the Hogwarts Express is leaving to take all of the students back into London for Christmas holidays. Every so often, she checks over her shoulder to make sure she's not seen. Her breathing is ragged, as if every breath weighs down on her body like the ice freezing over the giant lake next to her. She hopes he's there already; she hates being the one who has to wait. It's agonizing, just like this holiday is going to be.

She turns her head left and right, verifying that she's alone as she hurries through the trees. Once the daylight has closed off, she doesn't turn back. She would never turn back. Not even for Harry. Not anymore.

Faster and faster she walks. Faster and faster her heart beats. Closer and closer she gets to him.

Finally she sees the clearing. She rushes forward, her heart pounding in her ears, deafening her, her hair swishing wildly on her back.

She sees him, leaning against a tree, looking as cool and calm as ever, his gleaming eyes sliding over her body and resting on her face, gazes locking.

"You're late," he says simply, straightening himself to his full height and striding towards her.

"You're early," she coolly remarks, her eyes never drifting from his as he continues to walk to her.

"A Malfoy is never early nor late," he replies, his white teeth slightly baring themselves. "A Malfoy is always on time."

She laughs. He eyes her quickly, letting the sound of her laughter wash over him and fill his head before flashing a brief smile, made even better by its lack of appearance.

He puts his arms around her and tilts her head up to face him.

"Do you have to go?" she whispers, already knowing the answer to that question. A Malfoy always calls when he is beckoned, especially when he is beckoned by power and wealth and importance.

He nodded, searching her eyes for sadness. He wants her to hurt like he hurts, ache like he aches. He quickly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

She looks away. "I have something for you," she says in a whispered hush.

"Do you?" he asks, one eyebrow raised in mock curiosity.

She reaches into the inside pocket of her dark, heavy winter cloak and pulls out a deep green velvet ribbon, one, he notices, she uses to tie her hair in quite frequently.

"What's this?" he asks as she slightly reddens.

She slides the ribbon under his cloak and into his pocket, her hands burning up his sides. He grabs her wrist quickly and she jumps, staring fiercly into his eyes, begging him to do what's on his mind. It's on hers, too.

He pulls her close and brings his lips down upon her, crushing away all thoughts of hurting and aching for the moment. Right now, all he wants is to taste her, to feel her, to be with her. Nothing more. All he wants is to exist with her, just the two of them alone together forever, no parents telling them right from wrong, no surname exclaiming superiority over the other. He wants her. Just her. Only her. And nothing else.

They break apart, gasping for breath, both knowing it was time to part. Both dreading it.

He whispers, "Happy Christmas," into her ear, brushes his lips across her rosy cheek, and walks away, his hand entwining itself with her ribbon inside his own pocket.

He never says goodbye. Not to her. Goodbye means so much more, more than he allows himself to question or dwell. So much more that he doesn't turn around for one last glimpse to tide him over, not knowing that she doesn't either.

- - - - -

_It's way too late_, Ginny thought to herself as she finally crawled into bed several hours later. She wondered what Draco was doing at that very moment and silently cursed herself for not being able to find him. Now that she'd gotten a glimpse she wanted the whole thing. She deserved it.

_What is he doing here?_ The question raced through her mind over and over again until she finally sat up and wandered, once again, back to the kitchen she'd just Apparated into moments before.

She didn't know why she was letting him plague her. Hadn't she pushed him out of her thoughts? Didn't she have a good relationship going for her with Harry, one that she'd always dreamed of?

And suddenly Harry's face came flooding back to her, as if he'd been standing directly in front of her. Two brilliantly green eyes blinked at her. She jumped.

"H-Harry?" she asked cautiously, all at once noticing his dissheveled appearance, his frown, and the anger growing in his eyes, drowning the happiness that once resided there. He continued to stare back at her in complete silence.

"Harry, it's late. What are you doing here?" she asked, manuvering around him and going over to the faucet for a glass of water, hoping it would calm her down.

Still no reply. Only silence.

"Well then, if you think you can just barge right in here without so much as an explanation, you've got--" she spat at him, hands on her hips, before being interrupted by a seemingly large earthquake. Or Harry's temper.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING, SNEAKING ABOUT LIKE THAT? WERE YOU HOPING TO RUN INTO SOMEONE OR WAS IT JUST AN EXCUSE TO GET AWAY FROM ME? I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, GINNY, BUT YOU'VE BEEN ACTING ABSOLUTELY BARKING ALL DAY, JUST LIKE BEFORE, AND IF ANYONE DESERVES AN EXPLANATION AROUND HERE, IT WOULD BE ME, SEEING AS HOW I'M ONLY YOU'RE BLOODY BOYFRIEND AND ALL," he bellowed at her, his green eyes blazing.

Ginny whitened. _He knows_, she thought before being interrupted, once again - only this time by her brother and Hermione.

"What the bloody hell is going on out here?" Ron asked, his ginger hair sticking up all over the place. "Do either of you know what bloody time it is? Or have you both gone completely off your rocker?" He eyed them both, a yawning Hermione at his side.

"Mmmphf," she mumbled in agreement, still yawning.

Harry's tough exterior crumpled as he looked at his two best friends and over to his girlfriend. Maybe he was going mad. Maybe Ginny was right - maybe he didn't have anything to worry about.

"That's better. Now, care to explain yourself to this poor, misguided soul, Gin, or do I have to hex you both in order to get some sleep around here?" Ron muttered, slipping an arm around Hermione's waist to hold her up.

"Harry, I--" Ginny began, ready to confess everything.

But Harry quickly acted, thinking he was about to get yelled at and not wanting to row anymore. He was tired, and by the looks of things, so was Ginny. The quicker he got himself out of this, the better.

"Don't worry about it, Ginny. I'm probably overreacting. You just got all mad on me, like you were going to have a fit or something, so I figured you were tired." He paused before adding, "And that was before I followed you all over Magical London on a wild goose chase."

Ginny eyed him warily. "You were following me?" she asked, bringing a hand up to her tired face.

He nodded in her general direction, his eyes raking across the kitchen floor. "What were you doing?" he asked her as he took off his glasses, rubbed them on the corner of his untucked shirt, and replaced them to the bridge of his tanned nose.

"I just," she started again, thinking fast. "I just thought I saw someone that I once knew. And by the time I remembered what I was doing, I was wandering. That's all," she finished, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Oh," Harry said lamely, running a hand through his already messed up hair. "I'm... sorry, Gin," he stated meekly. "I shouldn't have followed you. I was--"

"It's in your nature, Harry," Ginny cut him off. "Don't worry about it." She smiled at him as he came forward and embraced her.

"Well then, guess that's settled. Now shut up - the both of you, so we can get some sleep," Ron said, turning to Hermione.

But Hermione was already fast asleep.

- - - - -

_"Nooo!" she screams, watching as the darkened figure slumps to the floor. _

"Ginny, get out of the way!" she hears Harry call from across the room. "Get back!"

Harry raises his wand and walks slowly across the room to the slackened figure laying motionless on the ground.

She creeps back against the wall and begins to feel her way towards a door, towards a way of getting out and getting help. She can't watch. If he's... but he can't...

They're alone, the three of them in this darkened classroom. Two versus one, but whose side is she on? Not even she can answer that, though it should be as simple as anything she's ever answered before. But she can't.

And suddenly she gets an idea. An awful, brilliant idea. She turns back towards Harry, raising her wand as she moves closer and closer to him as he stands over the crumpled body on the floor.

"Stupefy!" she whispers, watching the spell leap from her wand and come in contact with the boy she once loved, the boy that always won, the boy who has come to her rescue before. She watches him crumple to the floor beside the other body and kneels down beside them both.

She picks up the other's hand and holds it in hers as silent tears stream down her cheeks. Oh please, she prays to herself. Please let him be alright. Let them both be alright. She looks sadly over at Harry and brushes the hair out of his face before quickly returning her attention to the other figure.

She points her wand at his chest and says aloud, "Ennervate." She watches and waits for a sign of life, any at all. Finally she feels, rather than hears, a hand clench around her own.

"Draco?" she asks in a hush.

"We need to get out of here," he states, his silver eyes glowing against the blackness of the room. He looks disgustedly at Harry's body and back up at her. "Now."

He stands up and helps her to her feet, and together, they step over the unconscious body of the famous boy who lived and run for safety.

Ginny woke up in a cold sweat, feeling rigid from her head all the way down to her toes. She shivered, bringing the blanket up around her face, barely holding back the tears she'd been wanting to cry for ages but hasn't allow herself.

"What is happening to me?" she asked herself outloud, knowing that what has already happened cannot be changed. The harm that she has caused others - to her beloved Harry, especially - and herself was irreversible, and the weight of keeping all these secrets and burdens locked inside herself was like trying to carry the entire Hogwarts grounds on her shoulders. All she wanted was a little rest. A little peace. A little closure.

She fell back asleep hours later, just as the sun was rising, feeling the constant flow of tears that she couldn't hold back any longer slide down her face.


	3. Chapter 3

This was a speedy chapter because the other night, I had a revelation (the HP God loves me!) about which direction I should travel with this storyline. You see, ever since I read HBP, I've been having second thoughts on whether or not I should continue this. After that, however, I have a new direction, so I hope that it will be rather enjoyable.

As always, thanks to my lovely beta, Key, for making my somewhat horrible grammar legible; without her, everything I've written would probably make sense to me and me alone. And of course, if you like this chapter (which I hope you will - I quite enjoyed writing it), please leave a review! I'd love to know what you all think of it.

So, on with chapter 3!

♥, Amy (s p l a s h d o w n)

**Chapter 3 - Past, Present, & Future**

The sun had fully risen before Ginny stumbled out of bed and made her way down the hall to the kitchen. When she entered her usual sanctuary, however, she was greeted by three very-awake and eager annoyances.

"Morning, sunshine," Ron called out to her, standing up to ruffle her already out-of-place hair. "'Bout time you got out of bed, you lazy bum. Thought you'd died or something. Pity, that would've been, really," he continued, not even bothering to stifle his laughter at Ginny's indignance.

Ginny groaned. "What in Merlin's name are you _still_ _doing_ here? Don't you have your own bloody flat to terrorize?" she asked through a muffled yawn, leaning over to hit Ron's arm and, with her wand, pouring herself a glass of juice at the same time. It's not that she didn't love living close to both Ron and Harry; she was grateful to be able to spend vast quantities of time with her brother (unlike most of the wizarding world, who'd lost siblings and other family members since even before the long-awaited end of the war). But that morning, however, she would've much rather liked to have the flat to herself and her anguish. She stared intensely at her brother through still-sleepy eyes and watched as he challenged her back.

Harry laughed as he watched the two of them. He never really stopped feeling relieved that the four of them had made it out of the war intact; sometimes he thought about it so much that he began to feel guilty, as if something should've been done differently, and he should be feeling some of the pain he'd seemingly helped cause throughout the wizarding world. Other times, like this precise moment, he understood just why and how they all had been brought together and survived through it all; in this moment, Harry was happy, and he simply couldn't resist the opportunity to join in on that morning's festivities.

"I'd much rather prefer him terrorizing all three of us at the same time over here than me alone back at our flat. Besides," he added, striding over to where Ginny and her brother were still battling it out and placing an arm around Ginny's waist, clearly confirming the onward movement of forgetting the previous night's actions and accusations. "He is toilet-trained, and I believe that's all that really matters, anyway."

Both Ginny and Hermione, finally looking up from reading that morning's issue of The Daily Prophet, laughed outloud as Ron broke Ginny's eye contact and glared helplessly at Harry as if he'd just been doused with a bucket full of water. He mouthed wordlessly as the three others continued to laugh at Harry's playful betrayal.

"Well, Harry, except for that _one time_ when Ronald was nearly 11, and he --" Ginny began, trying to keep a straight face as Ron turned his eyes back upon her and stared open-mouthed, the tips of his ears beginning to brighten slightly pink.

"Oi, Ginny! Continue that, er, complete and utter _nonsense_ you're telling, and I might have to have a little chat with Harry about what I found when I came back to the Burrow after my first year at Hogwarts," Ron threatened, amusement glowing from his eyes as he challenged her to continue.

"Truce," Ginny replied quickly before either Harry or Hermione could interrupt with their own inputs.

"No, hold on, I think I want to hear this," Harry said, turning to Ron and moving in front of Ginny, blocking her view of Ron. "So, what _did_ you find?"

Ginny and her brother shared a quick, meaningful glance over Harry's shoulder before Ron only nodded and said, "Sorry, mate, you may be my best friend, flat mate, and defeater of You-Know-Who --"

"Voldemort," Harry interjected, not missing a beat.

"Er, right, whatever then. But as I was saying, a family's bond is stronger. And also," he paused, bringing a hand up to his face in mock concentration, "I am in no mood to deal with another round of the famous Bat Bogey Hex. The last time left me scarred for life, I'm sure." Ron took a seat next to Hermione at the table and looked over towards the Prophet.

Harry sighed and shrugged. He'd get it out of Ron sooner or later, anyway. Preferably sooner, of course.

"Oh, by the way, Ron," Ginny said suddenly. "I won that staring contest again. You really are a lost cause, you know," she added as she stuck out her tongue.

"What! Harry bloody _interferred_! I want a re-match!" Ron shouted, jumping back to his feet and pointing at his sister.

It was no use. Ginny was already dancing around the kitchen, yelling, "Ha ha, I win, you lose, I'm the best, you smell like dirty socks --"

"So, Harry," Ron said above the noises Ginny was making. "When I got home after our first year, I went upstairs to Ginny's --"

"Okay," Ginny interjected in hysterics. "Okay! You don't smell like dirty socks! Are you happy?"

"Quite, thanks," Ron replied and turned his attention to Hermione's hair and his fingers wrapped in her curls. Hermione smiled at his affection. She loved when he played with her hair. After all, it did take _years_ for him to actually get the courage (and smarts, really) to ask her to be his girlfriend.

"Damn," Harry interjected. Ginny swatted him playfully on the arm and made to leave the room when Hermione's voice made her come to a crashing halt.

"Holy cricket," Hermione mumbled, eyes widening. "You'll never guess who's back in London!"

Ron, Ginny, and Harry all turned to stare at Hermione, willing her to go on. Clearly patience was not a virtue on this particular morning, though it never really was to Ginny anyway.

"It says here in the Prophet that the Bigonville Bombers traded 'the best Seeker Luxembourg had ever seen' to the former Falmouth Falcons, now in London, for a second-string nobody and a load of Galleons," Hermione said, breathlessly looking between Ron and Harry.

"Malfoy," both boys said together, dryly, as Ron continued on. "Clearly they've never seen _you _play, Harry, honestly. How many times did you beat Malfoy to a pulp back at Hogwarts?"

Ginny felt herself let out a long stream of air and realized she must've been holding her breath in anticipation. _So that's why he's here_, she thought as she continued on her way to her bedroom and a nice, warm shower. _For Quidditch_.

Ginny couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed and was furious at herself for feeling that way. She didn't love Draco, not anymore, but she found the prospect of seeing him out and about in Magical London was a bit too much for her heart to bear. She silently cursed the former Falmouth Falcons for obtaining new ownership and moving to London, even though, just days before when the news spread that London was finally getting a real professional Quidditch team, she was ecstatic.

She remembered how happy most of Magical London had been that day. After waking up and reading about the news in The Daily Prophet, she Disapparated to Ron and Harry's flat straightaway to discuss their thoughts and listen to Ron compare the Falcons to the Cannons (which, Ginny reckoned, wasn't a bad comparison in the least since both teams were tied for last place in the league).

Ginny knew that Draco was a great Seeker - one of the best in the league, in fact - and that he always had been. Even at Hogwarts, he shined. If Harry hadn't been one of his opponents, Ginny was sure that Draco would've caught the Snitch in almost every match. However, Ginny never thought that he would be traded to practically the worst team in the league. She silently wondered what he thought about the trade and if he even had a say in what had transpired.

Knowing Draco Malfoy, though, he probably did.

He always had a say in everything. Every decision, every row, and in every idea; he made his input known, even if it was only a slightly raised eyebrow or a devilish gleam in his eyes. Ginny, of course, knew this first-hand. She was well-versed in the Ways of Draco, as well as the Malfoy family as a whole. Draco never missed an opportunity to tell her exactly what Malfoys did and did not do, as well as remind her that he, unlike she, _was_ a Malfoy, always placing an invisible barrier of so-called 'superiority' between them. One that Draco took down for no one, not even himself.

Ginny remembered one of her first encounters with Draco that did not end in a fight or a battle or someone being sent to Madam Pomfrey and the hospital wing. It was during the beginning of October in her fifth year when Ginny first noticed a pair of Slytherin eyes on her at every meal in the Great Hall. She was eating breakfast on a cool Saturday morning when she looked up to find Blaise Zabini staring straight at her. She didn't know his intentions but reckoned since he was a Slytherin that they were probably dangerous, so she narrowed her eyes and stared threateningly back at him, clearly daring him to make a wrong move. To her utter surprise, however, Blaise only smirked and continued to stare at her. She finally looked away when she heard someone call her name but couldn't help looking back over at the Slytherin table to see Blaise's dark eyes still locked on her.

When the same thing happened during lunch and dinner that day, Ginny's mind began to reel. Blaise definitely wasn't unattractive. He was the complete epitome of the 'tall, dark, and handsome' stereotype that seemed to plague every girl's mind. But it wasn't that which Ginny found completely irresistible about him; it was the mysteriousness that surrounded him and the constant gaze he held on her.

After the first few days of the same exchange, Ginny grew impatient. She wondered if this was his only plan or if he was actually going to talk to her. After all, she was a girl, and despite his House at Hogwarts, he was a boy. Ginny knew that she was pretty, but she didn't dwell on it. While she enjoyed the attention her looks received, she also knew that there were many other girls at Hogwarts even prettier and more deserving of attention than she. There was, of course, Cho Chang, whom, although Ginny didn't like her one bit, was admittedly among one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts. Then there was also Parvati and Padma Patil, and Lavender Brown, as well as a few girls whose names she wasn't sure of. She also thought her friend Luna Lovegood was rather attractive as well, but more as a natural beauty than a conventional one, which made it all the better. Her long, wavy hair flowed down her back like magic (ironically enough), and her clear eyes reminded Ginny of a warn summer day. And then there was the girl Ginny hated to admit was beautiful, the girl she despised more than any other in the school: Pansy Parkinson. Although she and Pansy had had their fair share of fights in the past, Ginny couldn't deny that Parkinson was the prettiest Slytherin and also one of the prettiest girls in her year. Even if she did have a bit of a pug face, she reminded Ginny of a princess, one that lived in a glorious castle made of ice (Pansy Parkinson, Ice Princess - how fitting).

Which is why Ginny felt so startled as she moved her gaze from Blaise's and let it wander gauchely down the Slytherin table one evening during dinner. Her breath caught in her throat as a second pair of Slytherin eyes stared in her direction, this time belonging to none other than the Slytherin Prince himself, Draco Malfoy. Her immediate reaction would usually have been to scowl and throw any insult she could muster in his general direction, but Ginny realized that her voice was too caught in her throat and that her eyes were too glued on his to make any type of movement at all. Only when she felt someone nudge her shoulder did she break contact and grudgingly move her eyes back to her own table and to the person who sought her attention. It was Ron. He seemed to be arguing with Harry about something Ginny couldn't quite place so she simply nodded in what she hoped was agreement and moved her mind to more pressing matters. She chanced a quick glance towards the Slytherin table, but Malfoy seemed quite contentedly engrossed by his dinner.

Ginny felt her heartbeat slacken in disappointment. No one, not even Michael Corner, had ever looked at her that way. Even if it was Draco Malfoy, she couldn't help but wonder what it meant. But by the way he was, once again, acting as if she didn't exist, it meant apparently nothing, so Ginny vowed to forget the gleam in his eyes as she turned once more to where Blaise sat. She was expecting to feel his eyes grazing her body, which had become so usual that it felt perfectly normal and refreshing, like jumping into a cold river on a sticky, hot day.

Blaise, however, was nowhere in sight.

- - - - - - -

Stepping out of the shower, Ginny grabbed a towel, ran it over her dripping hair, and finally wrapped it around her body. She smiled to herself as she hummed along to the Weird Sisters' latest song, "Magic (Broom) Stick" on the Wizarding Wireless Network. She felt very refreshed, like all the anguish on her shoulders from earlier that morning and the previous few days had been lifted. Showering always seemed to uplift her spirits. She was grateful that her flat had three lavoratories and even more thankful that she could actually afford it for the time being. Her internship under the Healers at St. Mungo's didn't begin for another week. She wasn't certain how much she'd be paid, but that didn't concern her too much. Money had never been a big priority in her life, especially since growing up she didn't have much of it. She had always been taught to make-do with what she had, and that had always been enough for her.

As Ginny moved from the loo into her adjoining bedroom, she felt her heart beat a bit faster upon the realization of the memory that had been consuming her brain for the previous half an hour. Ginny certainly wasn't one to dwell on the past - Tom Riddle had definitely taught her that - but she couldn't help feeling that if she hadn't gone looking for Blaise Zabini that cool fall evening back at Hogwarts, her life would have been a bit more simple and a lot less dramatic. She wouldn't have had her recent fight with Harry, for instance. She wouldn't have had those flashback nightmares, either. And maybe - _just maybe_ - that tiny bit of her heart wouldn't belong someone who didn't deserve it.

- - - - - - -

Before Ginny could get a grasp on what she was doing (or thinking, for that matter), she was standing up, waving off her brother's contemptuous looks, and heading toward the doors of the Great Hall and hopefully, Blaise. As she strided across the room, she had the strangest feeling of being closely watched, but scratched it up to the many people left eating at their respected House tables.

Once outside the Great Hall, Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. She had no idea where he was; it would take hours to search the castle and all of the grounds, and he might've gone back to the Slytherin Common Room located in the dungeons, anyway. She had absolutely no way of knowing where Blaise was at that precise moment, and as she let the feeling overwhelm her, she found that she felt utterly disappointed.

Ginny sighed and wondered what she should do next. She had an awfully large amount of homework to finish, and the essay for Snape on 'Why Wolfsbane Is So Incredibly Important In The Effots Of Potions-Making' was going to take her ages to complete. No matter how great of a student she might've been, she loathed homework (and, more specifically, Snape). Ginny never undestood how Hermione could love schoolwork; it was a mystery to her, and one that would stay that way until _after_ she finished her mountainous load of work.

She scratched her nose and thought about which essay she should start first. Just as she decided to go back up to Gryffindor Tower for her books and head over to the library until her curfew, the Great Hall doors opened, and an unusually alone Draco Malfoy stepped through.

Ginny's breath caught in her throat for the second time that evening as Draco eyed her suspisciously and continued on his way. As he neared Ginny he stopped and, after looking in all directions, asked, "Looking for someone, Weasley? _Zabini_, perhaps?" Something flashed in his eyes, but it was so quick that Ginny couldn't recall what it was (and if it was even there at all).

Ginny's eyes narrowed subconsciously as she searched for the hidden meaning behind his malevolent words.

Draco smirked at her innocence and näitivity. "Foolish, little girl," he drawled, malice dripping from his every word. "Just like the rest of your filthy family, so blindly unobservant to anything that would do you even the least amount of good."

Ginny's face slightly reddened at his words, waivering between embarrassment and loathing of the deepest kind. Draco took a step closer to her and dropped his voice. "Zabini, little _Weasel_, isn't the only one who's been watching you. I see the way he looks at you and how you fall all over yourself at the slightest hint of worthy attention. Zabini is, and will always be, your superior, Weasley, and I, his. There is one thing, however, that we are both," he paused for the slightest second as his eyes bore into hers, "_lacking_, but I will leave _you_ to figure that one out on your own, given it's not too impossible a task for your brain to decipher." He paused once more and watched her struggle under his cold, hard glare. "Just remember, _Weasley_, that I'm watching you."

Before Ginny could react at all, Draco turned and walked in the direction of the dungeons, and she continued to stare at the spot in which he had been standing for what seemed like hours. She still couldn't quite place how she was feeling. On one hand, he had insulted her numerous times, but on the other hand, he had left her with a sense that there was more to come, which wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling. Yet, she despised Draco and had never before heard anything come from his mouth that didn't make her want to shove her wand in his face and make him eat his words or feel pain, whichever came first and stung the worst. This time, however, was different. This time, she was intrigued. This time, she wanted to know more.

After she'd collected most of her thoughts and headed up the many flights of stairs to Gryffindor Tower, she realized that she would have to concentrate extra-hard on her studies that evening or else she wouldn't get _anything_ accomplished. She inwardly cursed Draco for disturbing her train of thought and infiltrating her mind.

She grinned in spite of herself and raced up the last of the stairs that lead her to the corridor in which the Fat Lady's Portrait hung. She knew one thing was for certain, though. If Draco Malfoy wanted to watch her, then Ginny Weasley would make sure he was getting a show.

One that would alter the course of her life forever.

- - - - - - -

**A/N: Wow, right? What to expect in the next chapter: Ginny's new assignment for her internship, a visit back to the Burrow, and a first real encounter with someone from Ginny's past.**


	4. Chapter 4

Oh man, it's been a long time, and for that, I'm sorry. Apparently I'm losing my memory at the rip age of twenty-one. Sad, isn't it? Anyway, thank you to all who've read and reviewed; it honestly brightens my day to open my inbox and find numerous e-mails of reviews. And once again, the biggest thank you ever to my beta Key, without whom I would be incredibly lost and sans "Half-Life."

Enjoy!

♥, Amy (s p l a s h d o w n)

**Chapter 4: The Task At Hand **

The rest of the week flew by for Ginny. No matter how hard she tried to slow it down and savor her final few days of blissful freedom, the days rushed by her in a blur, unrelenting in their mad fervor to keep on with life. She soon found herself on the eve before her first day as an intern and began to feel the butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of her stomach. She silently wondered if Hermione could notice her anxiety and willed herself to keep calm.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, ever-so-slightly tilting her head and staring at Ginny in between bites of the mincemeat pie that covered her dinner plate in heaps.

Ginny shrugged and muttered, "Of course," hoping beyond hope that she looked a lot more composed than she felt. Despite the wild emotions into which her temper took her, she hated showing too much emotion. Ever since her earliest year at Hogwarts, the first year she let herself fall victim to the evil Slytherin Prince (and certainly not the last one), Ginny felt as though showing any type of passion was better than any other thing in the whole world – whether that be Muggle or Magical. But after her stint with Draco, she found that she would much rather break her own wand in two bits than go revealing her innermost thoughts and feelings. Rendering herself incapable of emotional reading was one of her most satisfying attributes (or so she thought) and one of the many things she'd learned from Draco. Ginny had always envied his cold, calculating demeanor, the way he could turn people into small objects with a flash of an eye or a cock of an eyebrow, how he was constantly unreadable. It was as if he had put up curtains to hide the genuine aspect of himself, the real Draco Malfoy.

Or maybe that _was_ the real Draco Malfoy. Ginny's chance to find that out came to a screeching halt ages ago.

-------

Draco was true to his word. Everywhere she went, every move she made, every thing she did – he watched her.

After several days of feeling his eyes upon her, Ginny felt something inside her snap into place, something she hadn't suffered in many long and forlorn years. It seemed as though if he didn't watch her, he would fade away into nothing, fade away into something that never had existed, fade away into the loneliness that had filled her heart for so long.

Ginny began feeding herself on his unjustifiable attention. When she was in classes, she longed for his presence, for his eyes to be upon her. When she was walking down the corridors, whether alone or accompanied by friends, she watched mercilessly for a glimpse of sleek blonde hair or cruel silver eyes, and when she found what she was looking for, found his head pointed in her direction and his eyes ruthlessly running the length of her body, she felt wanted, needed, desired. She felt on top of the world as she ran her fingers through her hair, smirking slyly in his direction, daring him to take his eyes off of her. From the moment she woke until the moment she fell asleep, her mind thought only of one person. It was unfortunate, however, that the one person she wanted seemed to be the one person she could never fully have.

It appeared as though Ginny had rough luck when it came to the opposite sex. Every boy she had ever felt truly enthralled with became every boy who held a bigger agenda, had the wrong last name, or was merely a memory. In the meantime, anyone else was kept around for the sole purpose of filling the void of the impossibility looming in the darkness ahead of her.

-------

Ginny left the library only minutes before her curfew of 9 pm and began making the journey up to the safety and warmth of Gryffindor Tower. On that particular evening, however, she felt as though not even the laughter and companionship in the common room would be able to melt the frozen feeling inside of her. Draco hadn't watched her in nearly four days, a detail that wounded Ginny and made her wonder what she did wrong to merit his lost interest. It was as though another diary had been ruined by her mere existence, and that thought alone was enough to chill her to the bone; she couldn't lose again. She felt as though one more loss would tear away at her soul and leave her completely and mortally empty. (Years later, Ginny would look back and wonder whether her entire essence would've truly been lost or if it had just been a normal bout of teenage angst. She would sincerely hope for the latter, yet somehow knew in her heart that the former was probably more accurate and would inwardly curse herself for being so weak.)

Ginny was halfway down the corridor when she felt, rather than heard, someone quickly approaching her and realized, with slight terror, that she was completely alone. Before she could turn around to face the sudden looming unknown, an icy hand clasped her mouth, and she felt herself being jostled into the nearest empty classroom.

"Missed me, haven't you, Weasley?" he whispered into her ear, making the ginger hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end, and as the familiar voice filled the silence of the almost-vacant room, she felt her body relax and her heartbeat return to a slightly normal pace, although still thumping a bit more rapidly than usual due to the presence standing extremely close to her (was it _him_ that smelled of pine and expensive soap?) and the pleasantly cold hand still draped across her lips.

She felt him press closer as he murmured into her ear again. "You thought I haven't been watching, haven't you? Didn't I tell you that I am _always_ watching?" He paused, and she was grateful; she realized her heart was beating wildly again and willed herself to calm down. After all, this _was_ only Draco Malfoy; they _were_ only enemies. And that was his body pushed up against hers, leaving no space in between.

He leaned even nearer, his lips barely brushing the tip of her ear, and continued. "I have noticed that you are quite the little tease, Weasley, always wandering gauchely about the castle, smiling at every walking _creature_ that shows even the slightest bit of interest in you. You belong to _me_, little girl," his voice lowered, barely audible, "whether you realize it or not, but do not delude yourself into thinking that _I_ belong to you. I will _never_ belong to you, for you are nothing but a treasure to me, no matter how much I watch you or how long this entire _masquerade_ continues. Do you understand me, Weasley?"

Anger flaired through Ginny, knowing that this was wrong, that Draco was cruel and offensive, that she deserved more than being considered nothing but a prize to someone. But she nodded anyway, her insides twisting in longing and fear, and Draco removed his hand from her mouth and turned her to face him, their faces inches apart. She would always remember the way he stared at her just then, his eyes on fire from the passion in which he spoke.

"Now that we have an understanding," he said, his lips coming down on hers as he kissed her harshly, and silently commanded for her to open up and let him taste her, all of her, for as long as he chose. He thought he might explode as he felt her comply to his demands and reassured himself that she _was_ only a treasure, a mere trophy for his bookshelf. He would not become attached. After all, he was a Malfoy, and she, a Weasley. He almost laughed out loud at the thought of becoming caught up with a blood traitor. _He would not become attached._

Ginny realized suddenly that she had never been kissed in such a manner before. She certainly had her fair share of kisses, but never with such force, such ardor, that had Draco not been grasping her upper arms in a tight embrace, Ginny was sure that she'd have fallen straight over and made a right fool of herself.

She was also quite certain that she'd never imagined Draco to have such passion inside of him, let alone be capable of showing it – especially with her. Her insides twitched with exhilaration at the thought of seeing this side of Draco and being the one who'd brought it out of him.

After what seemed like hours, Draco pulled away and watched as Ginny panted, clearly out of breath. She stared back up at him. They stood there in silence and simply looked at one another, the only sounds coming from the both of them as they each struggled to catch their breath. Finally Draco broke the reverie and spoke.

"If this is going to continue, which it undoubtedly _will_, we must keep it a secret. I cannot have anyone knowing I'm engaging myself with a filthy _Weasley_, at my own leis—"

"It's Ginny," she interjected crossly. "My name, that is. It's _Ginny_." She was startled at the way that had come out of her mouth, but pleased at the look that crossed Draco's face at the same time. No matter how much she wanted this to continue, no matter how intrigued she was, she wouldn't tolerate her last name being made a mockery.

Draco quieted, his eyebrow cocked as he considered her. "I _know_ that," was all he could think of to say, and he silently cursed himself for lacking his usual vengeance at her interruption.

"Then call me by my first name," she responded, her cheeks slightly flushed, proud of the way she was standing up to him.

"Well, _that's_ laughable," Draco replied coolly, clearly amused that she would even think of asking to be called by such a common, filthy name, let alone be called that by _him,_ a Malfoy.

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine," she said, moving around him and beginning to head toward the door, surprised by her own audacity and hoping she hadn't just ruined what could've been. But Draco didn't quite understand what was happening; _he_ was in charge here, not her. A Weasley never outshined a Malfoy. Ever.

"Is Ginny," he paused, significantly disgusted at the way her name easily rolled across his tongue and out of his mouth. "Is _that_ your real name?" he asked her, visibly annoyed with the situation but more so at her stubborn desire to be called by her _first name_.

"No," she said, turning around once again to face him. "It's Ginevra, my real name. I have always just been Ginny, though. Everything else sounds wrong." She stayed where she was, which was a few feet away from him and stared, challenging him to disrespect her yet again.

He considered this name for a moment and said it aloud, "_Ginevra_." It was definitely better than Ginny, by far. He figured he might as well call her by her first name instead of by her surname, the horrid one she shared with the rest of her poor, bothersome family. Maybe this way she would seem less like a Weasley and more like someone exceptionally decent, someone a Malfoy could truly be attracted to for reasons other than pure enjoyment. Not that there _were_ other such reasons. Sensing her peaked curiosity, he quickly nodded his approval (or consent, at least) as she smiled warmly at him and began moving back toward him. He wasn't quite sure what to do – nobody had ever smiled at him in that way before, so untainted and real – so he nodded once more and hastily swept past her.

"Don't forget," he called over his shoulder as he gracefully strode towards the shut door of the classroom. "You are _mine._ Goodnight," he paused, "Gin_ev_ra."

And with that, he swept from the room, leaving Ginny too caught up in her thoughts to remember that she was irrefutably late for her curfew.

-------

Ginny woke the next morning, considerably calmer than the night before. She climbed out of her bed bright and early and decided to make breakfast for herself and Hermione. Just as she placed the food on the table and was conjuring up some coffee, Hermione walked in, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Mmmm," she said, looking around the room, eyes landing on the breakfast sitting at the table. "Something smells _delicious_."

"Morning, Hermione," Ginny said cheerfully, smiling at her roommate as she took a seat at the table and began dishing out some food for herself. Hermione returned her smile and followed suit. They ate in silence as both girls stared out the kitchen window into the dazzling, sunny morning.

After both had finished eating, Hermione cleared the plates and cleaned up as Ginny continued staring out of the window, wondering just how her internship was going to turn out. _I hope I'm not stuck with some old hag_, she thought to herself. _That would be just my luck._ She smiled at the notion of following another Trelawney around the hospital. That would not be a good, for surely Ginny would explode. _Anyone as mad as Trelawney deserved to be locked up for being completely incompetent._

Ginny realized that she had to be at St. Mungo's very soon, so she quickly showered and got herself around and ready. At a quarter till nine, she bid farewell to Hermione and Apparated directly into the waiting room at the hospital. She checked in with the nurse at the station and was told to head to the fourth floor, where a nurse called Deza would be waiting for her. Ginny smiled, kindly thanked the nurse, and headed toward the stairs.

When she arrived on the fourth floor, she was quick to find the nurse with whom she would be working. Deza had a round face with deep blue eyes and long strawberry blonde hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail and hung down to just above her waist. She grinned at Ginny and said, "Miss Weasley, I presume?" Ginny nodded and smiled, pleased that Deza seemed to be very nice and not at all mad.

"I'm very glad to be working with you, Miss Weasley," Deza continued, grabbing Ginny's elbow and directing her to an oval office down the hall.

"Please, call me Ginny," she replied, letting Deza guide her into a chair in front of a large wooden desk. The name plate on the desk read:

_Deza McPherson  
Head Nurse  
Spell Damage Department  
Fourth Floor_

Deza's smile widened. "Of course," she responded warmly. "I have heard quite a lot about you, Ginny, from many of the professors at Hogwarts. They've all said such good things about you, and I am quite certain that you are the perfect person for this internship. So perfect, in fact, that I've decided to give you a special assignment right away."

Ginny's eyes enlarged slightly as she leaned forward in her chair, both interested and anxious of the special task Deza was talking about. Deza seemed to notice her apprehension because she continued on without haste.

"Of course, if you'd rather not handle this task, I quite understand, but given your prior experience and the words of recommendation from your professors, I rather thought you would enjoy this extra hands-on practice," Deza said.

Ginny exhaled, only now realizing she'd been holding her breath, and cleared her throat before asking, "What type of special assignment would this be?"

Deza smiled once more and replied. "Well, since the arrival of the Falcons in London, we've had quite a few offers for the job of Official Team Healer. Once I found out that you had played Quidditch during your years at Hogwarts, I thought that this would be the perfect task for you to gain confidence in this discipline. I hope that you will accept," she added, looking earnestly at Ginny with an optimistic gleam in her eyes.

Ginny sighed to herself and took a moment to think about the job with which she'd be entrusted. "Would I be working with myself, then?" she asked.

"Yes, but if you had any questions or needed any help at all, I would certainly be at your beck and call whenever possible," Deza responded quickly, the gleam of hope still in her eyes.

Ginny nodded. _It would be good experience,_ she thought to herself. _And I would be all by myself, answering to no one and giving orders to the team. Plus, it is Quidditch._ She continued to reason with herself for another moment before finally accepting the offer. Deza grinned excitedly and started telling Ginny more about what she would be doing, both in the hospital and on the Quidditch pitch.

By mid-afternoon, Ginny had learned that she would be following Deza around at the hospital for a few days, learning the ropes and getting a feel for cures of the most common cases brought to the fourth floor's attention. Once she felt as though she could handle herself, she would be given Deza's patients with the helpful eye of her mentor and in due time, patients to deal with on her own.

On the Quidditch Pitch, she learned that she would be attending the Falcons' practices every night for two hours, and on days in which there was a match, she would have to be in attendance for however long the competition ensued. It would be a lot of work and even more of a commitment, but Ginny reckoned that she could handle it. Besides, if that was something she wanted to do with the rest of her life, she was willing to give up a few extra hours each day to become more involved and learned in her chosen occupation.

She bid adieu to Deza and Disapparated back into her flat, finding Hermione already there.

"So," Hermione said, excitedly. "How'd it go?"

Ginny swiftly re-capped her day and squealed in delight with Hermione, who'd known how much interest Ginny had in becoming a professional Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Afterwards, she decided to nip over to the Burrow before Apparating to the new Quidditch pitch to meet the team for which she would be working.

When Ginny entered the front door, she heard her mother right away, singing to herself in the kitchen, which was one of Ginny's most favorite things. Molly Weasley always had had a beautiful voice, and when she sang aloud, she made Ginny feel as though everything was going to be all right.

"Hi, Mum," Ginny called out as Mrs. Weasley turned around with wide eyes.

"Ginny! Oh, darling, how _are_ you? Are you getting on well with Hermione? You look like you've lost weight, dear, you should really eat more," she fused, hugging her only daughter tightly.

Ginny grinned and sat down at the table, Mrs. Weasley following suit. Ginny re-told her earlier experience at St. Mungo's and laughed as her mum excitedly gossiped about her news. Ginny quickly realized how much she missed her mum and longed for the days when she was younger and lived at the Burrow, following Mrs. Weasley around everywhere. She sighed and brought herself back to the present, and her mum talking.

"So," Mrs. Weasley said, brightening up. "I've just received an owl from Bill, and you'll never guess what he's had to say."

Ginny's curiosity peaked. It wasn't everyday that Bill wrote home and certainly not everyday that he actually had news. "Mum, what?" she asked, genuinely interested in what was about to come from her mother's mouth. She loved her brothers – all of them – very dearly, so learning (and gossiping) more about them was always incredibly fascinating to her. It always had been, too, which is why she'd gotten in so much trouble when they all still lived at the Burrow.

"Well," her mother started. "He's got a _girlfriend_! Our Bill, can you believe it? Who'd have thought he'd finally buck up and find someone who'd love him despite his unruly long hair?" She sighed.

Ginny giggled, and for the next ten minutes they continued chatting about Bill and his new girlfriend, imagining what she looked like and how they'd met. It made Ginny even more excited for the Christmas holidays to approach; she couldn't wait to badger Bill about this news, granted he was still "with girlfriend" by then.

Soon it was time to leave for the pitch. After promising she'd return in a few days for more talking, Ginny kissed her mum on the cheek and Disapparated with a _POP!_

As Ginny entered the arena, she gasped in awe. It had been months since she had been around a Quidditch pitch and even longer since she'd been around one so grandiose. She caught sight of the team dismounting their broomsticks and hurried over.

It was right then that Ginny realized with whom she'd be helping, as the tall, blonde haired boy looked directly at her. At once, Ginny realized her voice was stuck in her throat and felt herself go pale as she stopped in her tracks and stared back, clearly taken aback by her stupidity.

Draco cocked his eyebrow in amusement and stalked past her to speak with the Captain of the team, a pretty dark-haired girl named Susan Whitethorn, Ginny would later find out. Ginny couldn't believe her luck, or lack thereof, and decided to shake off the uneasy feeling in her stomach (as well as in her heart). If she had to work with Draco, so be it. She was perfectly fine with that. After all, she held no feelings for him in the least. This would be purely professional.

If only she knew how wrong she was.


End file.
